


Give It A Rest

by briala (ysha)



Series: Morrigan's Aching Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, subject to rating change (don't @ me im T R Y I N G)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ysha/pseuds/briala
Summary: Morrigan is a little bitch about Mahariel and Leliana





	Give It A Rest

The journey back to camp was always an arduous affair. Lyna Mahariel had a habit of bringing Alistair and Morrigan on the same journeys, and if neither of them knew better they’d have thought it was for her own personal amusement. Hell, they knew better and  _ still _ couldn’t shake the feeling. When they weren’t bickering the party fell into intense silences. Most of the time Morrigan found herself looking at their leader with puppy dog eyes more characteristic of Alistair than herself.

“Morrigan?  _ Morrigan _ ,” Alistair jibed, when Lyna was too far away to hear. “You know, I don’t think you’re her type.”

“Oh, and you are?”

“I’m under  _ no _ illusions that I’m her type,” he shot back. “I’m thinking she likes spies turned cloistered sisters more than apostate wilder witches that are nothing but nasty to  _ everyone _ .”

“I am a  _ delight _ ,” Morrigan snapped. “Just not to you.”

“Whatever you say,” he muttered. 

They fell back into silence. Alistair glanced over to Morrigan every now and then, to check that she wasn’t still watching Lyna’s swaying hips. She always was.

 

Camp was the same as always, everyone doing their own thing, Lyna doing the rounds. For someone so quiet she knew how to make noise.

“What comes, my friend?” Morrigan asked as she approached. Certain words stung more than they should.

“I have some questions.”

“Always with the questions,” Morrigan laughed, a rare occurrence if you asked anyone who wasn’t Sten, Zevran or Lyna. “What  _ will  _ you think of next?”

“I actually can’t think of anything,” she chuckled to herself. “I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Then maybe I could trouble you for a few answers?”

“Ask away.”

“I see you and Leliana have grown… close.”

“ _ Escandalo… _ ”

“I didn’t know you spoke Antivan.”

“I know one word,” Lyna rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t call myself fluent.”

“Is… it serious?”

“Oh the illustrious Morrigan wants to know about my flesh affairs?” Morrigan shot the Dalish an impatient look. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t  _ know _ ?” Morrigan pondered, maybe a little too loud. “From the noises you both make, I would’ve thought you’d both be pretty certain-”

“Creators, could you give it a rest?”

“Give  _ what _ a rest? I’m simply asking-”

“You’re not simply anything,” Mahariel rarely lost her temper, but only a fool would not notice her weakening grip on civility. “I flirted with you for  _ months _ and you weren’t interested, so I moved on. And now that I’m happy you’re being passive aggressive and snide and I really, truly, thought we were past this. So out with it, what do you want to say?”

“This has come out of nowhere, how long has this been brewing?”

“For the love of-”

“I’m sorry.” Morrigan wanted to disapprove, to leave. But for once, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, somehow worse than when Lyna and Leliana first laid together. “Truly, I am. ‘Tis true, I’ve let my feelings get the better of me, but I just want you to be happy. I will desist if you please, I just want to make sure you are sure in your dalliances, I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”

“I’m a big girl, Morrigan,” the elf spoke, bitterness evident in her tone. “I’m tired of everyone babying me, I can handle things! I’m a Grey  _ fucking  _ Warden.”

Morrigan looked the girl up and down. While the witch stood at an impressive five feet ten, Lyna barely grazed five. Something about elves always made them seem younger than they were, and at only 20 years old with eyes bigger than the moon, something about Mahariel felt younger. Morrigan resisted the urge to push auburn curls out of her leaders face and spoke.

“I apologise,” Morrigan said, playing with her fingers. She wasn’t like this. She was  _ never  _ like this. “I take it Wynne’s been giving you a hard time too, you hardly need me making things harder. I’ll… be more considerate.”

“Much appreciated,” Mahariel’s tone softened. “Was there anything else?”

“Actually, yes.” Morrigan’s stature returned, no longer a bumbling schoolgirl she forced herself to become herself again. “Is it absolutely  _ necessary _ to bring Alistair and I along on the same journeys?”

“Goodbye, Morrigan,” she chuckled, before returning to Leliana. No doubt gossiping and laughing at her patheticness. They however, had something else in store.


End file.
